


Soft Side

by harmonydove13



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonydove13/pseuds/harmonydove13
Summary: From the prompt, “We live in adjacent apartments and one day I accidentally knocked a hole in your wall and into your living room I’m really sorry oh my god you’re naked” on Tumblr. Posted this on Tumblr recently. Thanks to the hole in their wall, Branch becomes Poppy's temporary roommate, and one day she comes home bruised because of her boyfriend, Creek. Oneshot.
Relationships: Branch & Poppy (Trolls), Branch/Poppy (Trolls), Creek & Poppy (Trolls), Creek/Poppy (Trolls)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	Soft Side

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is my first work on AO3, but I'll be posting more soon. And apologies if the ending seems rushed—I wanted to end it before it got any longer. Let me know what you think!

Branch was having a tough day. 

No tougher than usual, of course. His whole life was an endless hell, laced with occasional things that could make him smile for half a second.

There were two people, though, that were definitely not one of those things. And those were his two roommates, Joe and Chris. 

Ever since he’d moved in at the start of the year, they had gotten on his nerves. But then again, he would admit that most people did, especially people like them. Jerks whose only passion was getting drunk and/or high, and whose only purpose in life was to annoy people. 

Today, apparently, Joe was also having a tough day, only his had been tougher than usual. They also didn’t have any alcohol in their room, and weren’t about to go get some because it was raining outside. 

So now Branch lay on his bed, watching Chris coach Joe through his emotions in the least helpful way possible: punching as many things as he could. First it was Joe’s bed and everything on it, and then some more stuff that Branch tried not to pay attention to, and then:

“The wall! Now it’s time to bring in the good stuff. Come on Joe, punch the damn wall!” 

Branch’s head snapped up from the book he was reading. What was going on? There was a room on the other side of that wall, and based on the music he could hear coming from it at all hours of the day, the walls were pretty thin. 

“Wait, maybe you shouldn’t—” he started, getting up and starting to come closer to his roommates. 

Chris looked at him and rolled his eyes. “Killjoy,” he said, then turned back to Joe. “Do it, Joe!”

And then there was a loud crashing sound, some dust, and a female scream from the other room. Branch shut his eyes tight, almost hoping that if he couldn’t see it, it would stop happening.

But wait. That scream. That voice. He knew that voice.

Poppy.

Oh no oh no oh no oh no—

Of course, he’d always known she lived on the other side of the wall. He’d seen her in the hallways sometimes, could hear her partying, all of that, but really? Did this really have to happen? Did they really have to punch a hole in the wall separating Branch and that annoying, overbearing, overzealous pink-haired girl that he’d had a crush on since childhood?

His eyes opened. 

The dust was clearing, and now it was obvious that there was a pretty massive hole in the drywall, one that they could all see through. On the other side, a wet-haired Poppy stood gaping at them, dressed only in a towel that barely even covered her.

Why. 

She met his eyes. Always optimistic, there wasn’t a trace of anger in her magenta-tinted orbs, just confusion. “Um, Branch?”

“. . . Yeah?” He could barely get the word out, especially with the way both Chris and Joe’s eyes focused on him once she said his name.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, um . . .” His voice was a hoarse half-whisper, and he cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. “Joe was, uh, Joe was angry, and so Chris was encouraging him to punch things. And . . . and, uh, he punched the wall. And this happened.”

“Oh. Well, I need to get dressed, so I’ll be right back!” Seriously, how did she stay so positive all the time? It was almost worse that she wasn’t mad. All three of them deserved it. And, to be honest, it would make it a lot easier to stay away from her if she was just smart enough to actually keep him away from her.

He watched uncomfortably as she shuffled over to her dresser, not seeming to mind the way the towel threatened to expose more of her body with every movement (which, for Branch, was way more anxiety-inducing than it seemed to be for her), and then went back to the bathroom where she could have a little more privacy getting dressed.

A couple of painful minutes later, she stepped out with what looked like really comfortable pajamas on, and stepped through the hole in the wall to their room. The first thing she did once she was there was give Joe a hug. 

“First off, I hear you’re having a hard day, so I just need to try and make it better,” she said. Branch bit his lip watching Joe trace his finger down her back, obviously intending to go further. Luckily, it was a quick hug and she pulled away before he could really do anything, oblivious. 

His life sucked, but it would be so much better without people like Chris and Joe in it. 

Poppy then came over to stand by him to inspect the damage. “What do you think, Branch?” she asked him. 

“I think it’s a hole in the wall,” he said sarcastically. How did she expect him to answer? “And why are you standing so close to me?” He moved away from her. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, I think it’s fixable. We should go down and file one of those thingies so they’ll come and fix it. And my roommate is with her boyfriend for the next month, so Branch, why don’t you come sleep in her bed?”

“Because it’s not mine? And mine is right here?” he responded. Sometimes she lacked common sense. And anyway, there was no way he was temporarily moving into Poppy’s room.

“Yeah, but this way it’s more balanced out! Two people in each room! It’ll be perfect! Besides,” she said, now bringing out her puppy eyes, “I won’t be comfortable without someone I know with me.”

He wanted to point out that she could probably also go spend the night with her boyfriend, Creek, or that he would be just on the other side of the wall (which now had a hole in it), but that look on her face had him weak in the knees and he couldn’t even get the word “no” out of his mouth. 

“I guess so,” he ended up saying, mentally kicking himself for not trying harder to resist. 

A smile lit up her features. “Yay! Thank you, Branch!” She wrapped herself around him in a big hug. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he said, pushing her away. “I said I’ll sleep in the extra bed, not that you could hug me.”

“Gotcha,” she said, but he knew she’d probably hug him again in less than an hour.

A couple minutes later, Branch had relocated himself to Poppy’s room, ready to finish his homework and go to sleep. 

“Let’s watch a show!” Poppy said excitedly as soon as he was in place, turning on the TV that must’ve been the source of noise many of the nights he’d stayed up late doing homework. 

“Poppy, I really just want to do my homework—”

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m gonna watch TV.” 

Branch sighed. With all this distraction, he’d probably be done at about 2 AM.

The next day, Poppy took care of the “filing the thing” part of the issue, as she so gracefully stated it to him when he woke up and she was getting ready to leave. Branch hoped that it would be a quick fix and that soon they could get back to their normal lives. 

So he was pretty upset when he received the news that it couldn’t be fixed for three weeks. 

Poppy still wanted him sleeping in her room, too, which he hated himself for not minding. He knew she had a boyfriend, but he grew to look forward to when she came home, when they were both hanging out at the end of every day, when she put on her adorable pajamas after a shower and insisted that he watch her favorite show with her, when neither of them could sleep at night and she rambled about everything she could think of, when she would (occasionally) come home drunk and he’d have to put her to bed . . .

By the time the three weeks were almost up, he was hoping something would happen that would delay the wall being fixed even further, but he knew the chances of it were slim. 

Two nights before the wall was scheduled to be fixed, Branch was sitting on his bed (Poppy’s roommate’s bed?) doing homework when Poppy came in crying.

It took him a moment to realize what was going on, because as long as he’d known her, Poppy didn’t cry. It was just a fact, silently acknowledged among everyone who knew her. But here she was, red-faced, puffy-eyed, and sobbing. She flopped down onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow. 

“Uh, Poppy,” Branch said, hopping out of bed, unsure how to comfort her. “Are you, uh, okay?”

She just looked up at him, smearing mascara across her pillow, and sobbed harder. 

He had no idea what to do, so he did the first thing that came to mind: started rubbing her back. After a couple minutes, the crying had slowed, and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I-it was Creek,” she said, flipping over onto her back. Branch moved his hand back to his side. “He—” She started crying again. 

Without even knowing what he’d done, Branch was already enraged at Creek. He’d known since the day they met that boy was trouble, and now he finally had a reason. To Poppy, though, his words were gentle: “He what?”

“Let—” Her voice hitched from the crying. “Let me show you.” She sat up and started unbuttoning the top part of her shirt. 

Alarmed, Branch started, “Poppy, what are you—?”

But then he saw it. 

The huge bruise across her chest.

His eyes widened and, seeing this, his roommate only cried harder. “Creek did that?”

She nodded, sniffling. “Yeah.” 

“Well, what happened? Why’d he do that? Was he drunk? Poppy, please tell me you broke up with him, at least.”

Slowly, she shook her head.

“Alright, give me your phone.”

“Wh-why?”

“If you’re not going to break up with him, I’m doing it for you. Give me your phone.”

She sniffled. “But—but what if he didn’t mean it? He was just angry. Everyone makes mistakes when they’re angry.”

Branch took a deep breath, annoyed that after all this, she still couldn’t see Creek’s true colors. “Who cares if he meant it or not? The fact that it happened should be warning enough.”

“What if it was just a one-time thing?”

“People don’t do things like that by accident, Poppy. He actively chose to do that to you. He could’ve stopped himself, and he didn’t. Is that the kind of person you want to spend your life with?”

“No, but—”

“Then give me your phone, or break up with him yourself.”

Taking a shaky breath, she reached into her pocket and gave him her phone. 

“Thank you, Poppy. Take care of yourself. I’ll be outside.”

After closing the door behind himself, the first thing Branch did was call Creek. Unsurprisingly, he picked up immediately. 

“Hello, my love—”

“Creek, this is Branch. Poppy just came back with a huge bruise across her chest. Do you have anything to say about that?” 

“Oh, Branch! How lovely,” Creek said, though from his tone it was obvious those words couldn’t be further from the truth. “You see, I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just simply couldn’t help myself after what she told me.”

Branch gritted his teeth. “What did she tell you?”

“That we were breaking up. And, of course, I just could not let that happen.”

“So you physically hurt her?”

“What other option did I have?”

“Maybe talk to her, using words, like you learned in kindergarten? Or, I don’t know, just respect other people’s decisions?” Every word dripped with sarcasm. “She doesn’t belong to you, Creek.”

“Why isn’t she the one calling me, then? We could work this out without your meddling, Branch.” Creek pronounced his name like a dirty word.

“Well, maybe because you’ve scared her off, Creek,” Branch said, pronouncing his name the same way. “I’m officially breaking up with you for her.”

“I thought she didn’t belong to anyone?”

“Oh, she doesn’t. That’s why I’m helping her get rid of you. You’re not her boyfriend anymore, and that’s that. Goodbye, Creek.” With that, he hung up, seething anger coursing through his veins, and reentered their room.

“Well, he’s not your boyfriend anymore.,” he told Poppy, tossing her phone onto her bed.

She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. “Why are you mad?”

He took a deep breath and sat down on his bed. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at Creek.”

“That’s . . .” She sucked in a sharp breath and shot him a hollow smile. “That’s nice of you.”

“Poppy, are you okay?”

She bit her lip. This was the saddest he’d ever seen her. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Creek lives in the dorms. I don’t—” A single sob escaped her mouth. “I don’t feel safe here.”

Branch sighed. On the one hand, he had homework and a sleep schedule to maintain, and he’d promised himself never to get this invested in Poppy’s life. On the other hand . . .

“I can take you somewhere. Maybe a fast-food restaurant or something, where you’ll be safe.”

“Like, drop me off?” She pressed a tissue to her face to dry her tears.

“No, no, of course not. I’ll stay with you as long as you need.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“Do you want a couple minutes to wash your face, or do you wanna leave now?”

“I’ll be quick in the bathroom, I promise.”

“Okay.”

After she left, Branch laid down on his bed, wondering what had gotten into him. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to get over her, and live his own life, and she was supposed to be happy with Creek—

But that couldn’t happen anymore, could it? 

Feeling a flutter of hope in his chest, he reminded himself that either way, he didn’t deserve Poppy. She was everything that he wasn’t—social, fun, happy—and he wouldn’t be any better than Creek if he brought her down. 

A couple minutes later, the door opened, and there was Poppy. It was still obvious that she’d been crying, but there were no longer streaks of black running down her face, and she looked a little happier. 

“I’m ready to go. Um, if you still wanna take me.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Branch stood up and led her out of their room. 

They were in the parking lot when she grabbed his hand. He glanced back at her, surprised, and then looked back ahead as he felt an involuntary blush spreading across his face.

As soon as they started to drive, Poppy asked, “Ooh, can I choose the music?”

Taking the opportunity to at least maintain some of his reputation, he lightly smacked her hand away. “No, this is a good radio station.”

“But it’s all old songs!”

“What do you have against old music?”

“Nothing, I just—” She sighed, like he just didn’t understand. “You have to choose the good old songs.”

“And what would those be?”

“Well, first of all, those classic ones that everyone knows, like ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ or something. And those power ballads from the 80’s? Those are the sweetest. I’d love to dance to one of those with someone, someday. Creek hated ’em, but . . .” She trailed off.

“Hey, I’m not taking you out just so you can think about Creek. Maybe you could tell me where you want to go? Because I’m not really heading for anywhere right now.”

“Would you mind driving somewhere kinda far-out? I don’t wanna run into anyone I know right now.” She sounded a little ashamed, as though she should always want to see her friends, at all times.

“Not at all. But what are you thinking? Like, a McDonald’s? A 7-11? Or somewhere fancier, like . . . well, I dunno. What’s open this late, anyway?” 

She shrugged. “A bar?”

“Yeah, right,” Branch scoffed. “You’re 19.”

“Hey, it’s somewhere that’s probably still open,” she said, holding up her hands in a surrendering pose. “And don’t act like you’re so much older than me. You’re only seven months ahead of me.”

“Well, maybe try and think of someplace that would actually let us in.”

“Oh, I know! We should go to a playground!”

“A what?”

“A playground!”

“You mean like, the kind for kids?”

“Is there another kind?”

“I don’t think so . . . you wanna go to a playground?”

“Yes! Think about it—it’ll definitely be open, it’ll be fun, and it’s pretty much the safest place out there. Please, Branch? Take me to a playground?” 

And then he glanced over at her, and she was making that face—that adorable, perfect, pleading face with the puppy eyes that he never could resist—and he had to say yes. “Fine.”

When they got there, Poppy was grinning, and she practically leaped out of the car. “Yay! Thank you, Branch!” The moment he got out of the car, she was there, ready to give him a hug.

For once, Branch found himself hugging her back. And God, was her hair soft. She smelled like—well, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that he wanted to stay like this, hugging her, forever. 

Of course, it couldn’t last that long, and soon he found himself being dragged by the wrist over to the playground equipment. He was barely even able to close his car door. 

“Come on! At recess in elementary school, my friends and I used to play this game, on those wobbly bridges—you know the type. It was so fun! Play with me!”

“Whoa, Poppy, I said I would drive you here . . .” Branch trailed off, realizing that he had no reason to say no to her. For one thing, what else would he do? It wasn’t like he’d brought his homework or anything. And besides, he enjoyed Poppy’s company a lot more than he’d care to admit. “Okay.”

“Yay! Okay, so these are the rules: I stand on the bridge and you stand on the one side, and you have to try to get across the bridge without me tagging you, okay?” 

He nodded. 

“Oh, and I can’t step on the non-bridge floors, or whatever they’re called—you know, the thing that you stand on—but I can step on everything else. Got it?”

“Um, got it.”

“Perfect!” She let go of his wrist and climbed up to the wobbly bridge, letting him climb up to one of the two platforms on either side. 

“So I’m supposed to get across the bridge without being tagged?”

“Yep!” Branch felt silly, but for the smile on her face? Worth it.

“Okay, um . . .” He moved all the way to his right, watching Poppy follow his motions. Quickly, he darted to the other side, running onto the bridge.

Inevitably, he was tagged, and Poppy threw her arms up in the air. “Woo-hoo! I tagged you!”

Branch laughed. “What, so now I’m the ‘bridge monster’ or something?”

“Yup! You’ll never tag me!” She darted off of the bridge. 

“Oh, I will so tag you,” he said, smiling, wanting to wipe that smug look right off her face.

After nearly an hour of playing that game, the two college students found themselves sitting across from each other on the playground platforms, just talking. 

“Wait, wait, okay. Do you remember the time in sixth grade when Suki and I gave a speech on worms for our research project? That entire speech was actually from our favorite show.”

“What?”

Poppy burst out laughing. “We didn’t actually do any research. We just memorized the script of the characters presenting their project about worms.”

“Poppy!” Branch scolded her, swatting at her arm and laughing with her. 

“Now you tell me something.”

“I dunno, Poppy, I didn’t do a lot of stuff like that in school.”

She shot him an unimpressed look. “Branch, you’ve been alive for almost 20 years. You can’t expect me to believe you’ve never broken a rule in your life.”

“Okay, well, um . . . you know how in elementary school, they keep extra clothes in the nurse’s office or wherever in case one of the kids has an accident?”

Poppy nodded, already chuckling. “Yeah.”

“Well, in kindergarten, before I moved to your town, I had this friend who would pee himself regularly. I have no idea why. Anyhow, he would never give any of the school clothes back, and his mom and my grandma were best friends, so they would give the clothes that he didn’t like to me. Basically, to this day, I own clothes that were stolen from an elementary school.”

Poppy laughed. “And you never tried bringing them back? Or donating them, or something?”

“I would feel weird, like a criminal! Isn’t selling stolen goods illegal?”

“Stealing things in the first place is illegal, Branch.” She tilted her head in the cutest way. “Besides, they’re 15-year-old clothes from an elementary school. Not exactly the police’s top priority.”

“I know that, but I’d still feel guilty.”

“I mean, the sooner you learn to get rid of that feeling, the sooner you can take school projects straight from TV shows when you don’t have the time to work on them!”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “When I don’t have time to work on projects, but I do have time to watch the same episode so many times that I memorize the script?”

“Hey, you never know!” She laughed, and a comfortable silence fell between them. 

Then she scooched over beside him. “Branch? Thanks for taking me here. And helping me out earlier. You didn’t have to do that.”

Branch shrugged. “Yeah, well . . .” I’m in love with you and I always did have a bad feeling about Creek, and either way you don’t deserve to be treated like that, and I wish that I could tell you all this but I can’t, because you deserve better than me. “What else would I do? Just leave you alone?”

“Well, I dunno. You could’ve. I mean, I know you have homework and everything . . .”

He heard himself saying, “Poppy, you’re way more important to me than homework,” and watched as he leaned over, opened his arms, and hugged her. No, stop, you have to stop, she’s not just “up-for-grabs,” she just got out of a relationship, stop—

She hugged him back. “Thank you.”

“Of cours—” 

The next thing he knew, Poppy was kissing him.

In shock, he didn’t immediately kiss her back. But after a moment, he realized what was happening, and he pressed her closer against his beating heart, and worked his lips against hers until they both needed to come up for air.

“I—Poppy, why—” Branch found himself stammering as Poppy smiled at him. “But you—you just—”

She shrugged. “I like you.” 

“That’s not—that’s all you have to say?”

“Well, that and, I wanna kiss you again.” The smile on her face alone was enough to make him want to reach out and grab her by the waist and kiss her and kiss her until he didn’t know anything else—

But.

“Poppy, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you just broke up with Creek—”

“I’ve been meaning to for a while now. He’s just . . . well, you know. But I promise I’m over him, okay?” She reached up and gently ran her fingers through his hair. 

“I just . . .” How did he explain to her that there was no way he was what she wanted, that she was just confused right now, and tomorrow she’d wake up and realize this had all been a mistake? “Poppy, you don’t like me.”

She scrunched her face in confusion. “Yes, I do. Why do you say that?”

“Because . . . look at me! I’ve only ever been rude to you the entire time I’ve known you. And we’re opposites—” He squeezed his eyes shut.. “I’d only bring you down, Poppy, and I don’t want that to happen to you!”

When he opened his eyes again, she was grinning again. “What?”

“You’re so sweet when you’re vulnerable. See, I know we’re not anything like each other, but these past few weeks you’ve been different to me. You . . . well, I don’t know, but it’s like you enjoy being around me. And what you did for me tonight?” She shook her head. “The last time someone did something that nice for me was two years ago, when I got into a fight with my friends and my dad made me my favorite foods and we watched our favorite shows together all night. I didn’t have anyone like that in college until now . . . Sorry, I’m rambling.” She shot him a sheepish smile.

Branch smiled back at her. “No, keep going. I think it’s cute.” What possessed him to say something so brave to her, he didn’t know, but judging by the look on her face, it was the right thing to say.

“I’m just trying to say that I know I like you, Branch. Yes, we’re different, but that’s good. Do you like me, too?”

Branch finally let himself kiss her, threading his fingers through her silky-soft hair. “Poppy, I really, really, really like you.” 

They stayed on that playground longer than any kid had ever been allowed to, but it was well worth it.


End file.
